


Dial 911 & State Your Emergency

by Pollydoodles



Series: The Pizza Dog Chronicles [14]
Category: Captain America (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: F/M, pizza dog - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-05-01
Updated: 2016-05-01
Packaged: 2018-06-05 13:45:25
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,975
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6706678
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Pollydoodles/pseuds/Pollydoodles
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>“Oh no, Darcy, it will be much safer if I do it.”</p><p>“Look-“</p><p>“But Darcy, I’ll get it done with minimum fuss.”</p><p>“I never-“</p><p>“Darcy, just trust me, this definitely won’t turn into an international incident.”</p><p>“It’s hardly a-.”</p><p>“Steve, I’m watching local news right now and if I just switch- oh, yep, there you are. National news. In fact, the SWAT team helicopters are circling overhead.”</p>
            </blockquote>





	Dial 911 & State Your Emergency

“Oh no, Darcy, it will be much safer if I do it.”

“Look-“

“But Darcy, I’ll get it done with minimum fuss.”

“I never-“

“Darcy, just trust me, this definitely won’t turn into an international incident.”

“It’s hardly a-.”

“Steve, I’m watching local news right now and if I just switch- oh, yep, there you are. National news. In fact, the SWAT team helicopters are circling overhead.”

“Still not international.” He grumbled.

“Considering the way you’re going, it won’t be long.” She pointed out and he groaned in response.

“Can you just get Barton down here?”

“No can do, Cap. He’s off-base on some mission, I don’t know what it is. Left yesterday, he’s not due back until at least next week.”

Steve sighed. “Who, then?”

“You may choose between slinky black cat-suit of deadliness, won’t let you live this down but may manage to sort it out without further igniting World War III; or red and gold rock music, also won’t let you live this down but may take both you and a good chunk of the tri-state area out in a blaze of glory.”

“That’s it? That’s the only choice? It’s Barton’s goddamned dog!”

“And it’s your best friend I can see facing off against New York’s finest boys in blue. Hey wait, is that-“

“Yes.” Steve’s voice was resigned.

“Is there a particular reason why you let him take a gun to the vets?” Darcy asked conversationally, voice sounding an awful lot calmer than she actually felt. 

“I wasn't actually expecting weaponry.” Steve said through gritted teeth.

“Seriously? ‘Cause he takes a Glock in the bath, Steve.”

“He just... Freaked out. A bit.” 

“Freaked out?” Darcy yelped, accusingly. “Like the time the toaster asked him what time it was or the time Stark forgot to take the Iron Man suit off before coming into the common room?”

There was a pause. Steve cleared his throat. “Iron Man suit.”

“Steve!” She wailed. 

“Yeah, I know.” He answered, and she could practically hear him hanging his head as he answered her. 

“What set him off, anyway?”

“You know how Stark recommended him that film?”

“Which fil- Oh.”

“Yeah, that one.”

“But that was weeks ago, I know he was upset but I thought he was over it now-“

“He was. Right up until they took Lucky into the practice room.”

“Didn’t you-“

“Darcy – do you wanna come down here and explain to 200lbs of angry enhanced soldier that the dog isn’t being put down?”

“Well I think someone should before he commits murder, Steve.” 

“That person isn’t going to be Tony, is it?”

“I – no.” Darcy conceded. 

“And Nat’s just gonna put him in a choke hold.” Steve continued, and there was a loud crashing sound in the background as he finished speaking. 

“Do I want to know what that was?” Darcy asked

“No.” Said Steve, shortly. 

“Noted. Yeah, Nat’s not really ideal either.” Darcy agreed, eyes on the TV screen as the NYPD police chief inspector motioned for his team to move in closer. She bit her lip. 

“Darce-“

“I’ll think of something.” She said, and hung up. It took her 15 minutes of serious thinking – and half a bagel as brain fuel – but she finally hit on something that might just work. 

*** *** *** *** *** ***

“Oh my god. Oh my god – I can’t believe this is like, us, like, doing this thing. Man, I’m so excited. Sidekicks Anonymous.”

“Hey, I told you, stop calling us that. We’re not sidekicks.” Darcy said sharply, shutting the van door firmly and wincing as the inside door handle fell to the floor. Gingerly she bent and picked it up, trying in vain to push it back into place before giving up and abandoning it in the dashboard pocket in front of her. 

“Yeah but… Like… I’m Scott’s sidekick. And you – you’re like-“

“I swear to god, Luis. Finish that sentence, and I will finish you. Like a cheesecake.”

He finally took the hint, and felt silent. He pulled the van out of the underground parking lot that lay underneath the Avengers tower, and Darcy squinted at the sudden splash of sunlight across the windscreen. It lit up all the dirty watermarks across the glass, and highlighted a large crack down the passenger side. Right in front of her face, in fact. She inhaled slowly and reminded herself that Luis really was the only resort she had, never mind a last resort. 

“So, you know where this place is, right?” She asked, resisting the urge to shut her eyes as he turned to her excitedly and ran a red light. The angry sound of the car horn blaring behind them rang in her ears long after they’d left the intersection. 

“Yeah I know where it is. My cousin, his girlfriend has this neighbour right, and she has this cat. I mean, I don’t like cats, bro. I’m like you – I’m a dog person. Cats are like, evil-“

“And the cat had to go to that veterinary practice?” Darcy interrupted. 

“Oh no. The cat had a fight with the Pitbull from across the street. Kitty put that dog out.” Luis looked impressed, despite himself. “Had to have like, twenty stitches. Now he's afraid of cats and runs from the delivery guy.”

“Why the delivery guy?” She asked, wrinkling her nose. 

“It’s TNT, right? Orange, like the cat.” 

Darcy shut her eyes and let her head fall back against the head-rest, only to jerk it forward mere seconds later as it moved backwards and then tumbled into the back of the van. It clanged hard against the metal floor and bounced. She flipped her head behind her to see it rolling the length of the van, coming to a rest against the back doors. Sighing, she turned back to Luis, who was silently mouthing along to the radio. 

“You know-“ He said slowly, without moving his eyes from the road – for which she was intensely grateful, thank you very much. 

“What?”

“We could get pizza.”

“Luis, I-“

He looked at her then, eyes bright and head nodding with excitement. “Seriously, I know this great pizza place, it’s just on the corner down from this farmer’s market that my ex-roommate used to go to all the time. Before he went to jail. For robbing the farmer’s market. But like, he said that pizza was so damn good. And he’s Italian, so he knows good pizza.”

Darcy stared at him for a beat before answering. 

“Captain America is trapped in a stand-off between the NYPD and his ex-assassin best friend, who’s flipped out because Tony-freaking-Stark got confused between the endings of Turner & Hooch and K-9 and now Bucky thinks the dog is going to be put down. They’re one accidental shot fired away from a full on international incident. And you want to stop off for pizza?”

“Okay… Yeah… But, like… It’s on the way?”

Darcy sighed, shoulders sagging as she stared out at the road in front of them. She rolled her eyes back to his face, half on her, half on the road. His eyebrows waggled in what he presumably thought was an enticing way. 

“Okay.”

She left Luis in the van, engine running, and with strict instructions to get absolutely anything they had, provided it was large, hot and didn’t have olives. “Olives don’t belong on a pizza, man. You know, I’m cool with a lot of stuff, I’m a man of the world, I can experiment. But that shit’s just wrong.”

She approached the counter, noting the faded colour to the menus and that each table seemed to have at least one broken leg. The one closest the front of the shop somehow had four broken legs, yet – by some miracle of science – was still standing. She sighed. Best pizza in NYC, her ass. The guy behind the counter didn’t raise his head to look at her, obscenely bright orange baseball cap pulled low over his face. He held a newspaper and the pages rustled slightly as he turned the page. 

The front page had a block headline glaring back at her AVENGERS THROWDOWN: CAP SHOWS MOB WHO’S BOSS. She rolled her eyes, remembering it well. 

Darcy ran her eyes over the pizza guy, noting the stains and burn marks across his shirt. There was something familiar about the way he slumped on the stool, legs bent and angled in a fashion that would be awkward for most people to achieve. She flicked her gaze up to his chest, where a battered and half-melted name badge was tacked, lop-sided, across his heart. She narrowed her eyes. 

“Uh… Chad?”

Barton looked up at her from under his cap and grinned, recognising her instantly but pretending otherwise. The newspaper remained in place. “What’s up hot-sauce, what can I getcha?”

“Oh, I don’t know.” Darcy said, letting her eyes flick over the menu embedded in the counter, and deliberately not looking at him. “How about a large slice of never call me that again?”

“Aw, don’t be like that, sweetheart. Pretty gal like you oughta be out in the sunshine, not in a place like this eatin’ pizza. Ain’tcha got better things to do?” His face was friendly and open, but his voice held a warning edge to it that no one but those in the know would have picked up on. Darcy had had plenty of practice in reading the edge to Clint Barton’s voice. 

“You know, you’re right.” Darcy put down the menu and looked him square in the eye. “Maybe what I’m really after right now is a hot dog.” She put all the emphasis on the last word. He stared right back at her. 

“Lucille? I’m goin’ break.” He hollered, and jumped right over the counter. 

“You already went break like a half hour ago!” Came the answering call, but Barton was half way out the door already, one arm slung around Darcy’s waist and the other hanging onto a black duffel bag. Luis looked only mildly surprised to find the side door of his van slid open and a man too old to realistically be a pizza boy throw himself bodily into it. Darcy flung open the passenger door and slid into the seat. 

“Where’s the pizza?” Luis asked, turning to her with hope in his eyes, hands on the wheel. 

“No pizza.” Darcy buckled up, clipping the seatbelt firmly home. 

“No pizza?” Luis looked crestfallen. 

“Just drive, kid.” The back seat growled at him. Luis took one look at Darcy’s face and put his foot to the floor. The van revved loudly, back end of it spinning out wildly and the tyres burning rubber on the road before pulling away in a cloud of smoke. 

“Darcy?”

“Yup.” 

“Did you just pick up a guy in a pizza place?” Luis gave her a sidelong look, which was punctuated by Barton’s shirt flying over the seat, hitting the dash and slowly sliding to the floor of the van. Darcy kept her eyes on the road and ignored both him and Barton, who was now down to his boxers and struggling to get his stealth suit out of the duffel bag. 

“Did the guy you picked up in a pizza place just strip in my van?” 

“Oh like you never had a naked guy in the back of here.” Barton’s grinning face popped over the headrest between Darcy and Luis. 

“Hey man, that was like one time, okay, and Scotty said he’d never-“

“Turn here!” Darcy threw an arm across Luis’ face and he reacted beautifully, hauling up the handbrake and slamming the steering wheel hard to the left. The van squealed in protest as it slid across the road, leaving a set of burned tire marks across the tarmac. Barton hit the right hand side of the van hard, and grunted as he dropped to the floor. Darcy stifled a laugh, whilst bracing herself against the window as she was flung towards it. 

“Tell me you have a plan.” 

“Tell me you have coffee.” He countered, deadpan. Darcy sighed heavily and handed back her half-drunk latte over the seat without looking at him. Luis dropped her a questioning side-glance which she stoically opted to ignore. Barton snatched it out of her hand and drained it, still shirtless but at least now in his pants. Wiping the back of his hand across his mouth, he let out a satisfied burp of appreciation and Darcy hit him hard in the shoulder. 

“I have half a plan.” Darcy turned to look at him, eyebrows raised. “Okay. Quarter of a plan. A plan that could potentially be described as the undeveloped foetus of a real plan. But you guys were stopping off to get pizza, so I’m way ahead of you two.”

“Every mission needs fuel, Barton.” Darcy shot back, and he grinned at her, shrugging his black tac shirt over his head. Fumbling inside his duffel bag again, he pulled out what appeared to be a small black stick. Gripping it hard and flicking his wrist just-so, the stick flipped out into a full-size bow. Darcy schooled her face into an unimpressed look. It wouldn’t do to let him see otherwise. 

He caught her eye anyway. “Nobody expects Hawkeye.” 

“Wait – wait – you’re Hawkeye?” Luis’ face was a study in unadulterated admiration, torn between keeping his eyes on the road and checking back over his shoulder at the man in the back of his vehicle now easing a quiver of arrows over his head. Darcy valiantly fought the urge to drop her head into her hands. Barton winked at him. 

“Here, you’re gonna need this.” He dropped the baseball cap onto Luis’ head. 

“I believe the phrase is ‘nobody expects the Spanish Inquisition’.” Darcy said drily, studiously ignoring the intense look of hero-worship across Luis’ face. 

“True. But they also never expect the Mexican pizza delivery guy.”

“He’s right.” Luis nodded sagely. 

“So … Your big plan is to deliver pizza?”

“Everyone loves pizza, Darce.” 

“I can’t actually argue with that, and yet you are still somehow very wrong.”

Luis had struggled his way into Barton’s discarded t-shirt, and looked like he’d won the lottery. “Seriously, I’m like – wearing Hawkeye’s t-shirt right now.” He grinned ear to ear. 

“It’s not Hawkeye’s t-shirt; it’s Clint Barton’s pizza-stained cast off. And it’s slightly too small for you.” Darcy pointed out. 

“Still counts.” 

Luis pulled the van, now belching out thick clouds of dark smoke from the tail pipe, into a bay at the other end of the parking lot by the veterinary surgery. He put the handbrake on, somewhat unnecessarily Darcy thought, given that the vehicle more or less sighed its way into the space and let out something that sounded very much like the automotive equivalent of a full-throated groan. Possibly even the car version of a death-rattle. She glanced out of the window, or at least as much as she could as the smog from the exhaust enveloped the front of the van momentarily. She wound up the window, waving her hand to disperse the smoke that had found its way into the front cab. 

“Look, that’s Steve’s car.” Darcy nodded, doing her best not to choke on the fumes as she did so, towards the little blue Beetle neatly parked in the bay across from them. The one he seemed to think was a decent undercover car and no one had yet had the heart to tell him made him stick out like a nun in a strip club. Especially since it was so small his knees bracketed either side of the steering wheel every time he drove it. 

“Right – Luis, is it?” The dark haired man in the driver’s seat nodded enthusiastically, practically vibrating as he sat. Darcy tilted her head at him, the corner of her mouth crooking as she wrinkled her nose, trying not to laugh. Barton shot her a look before continuing. “I need you to go to the front of the building, and deliver this to the most authoritative cop you can see.”

Luis looked down at what Barton had handed him over the seat. He looked back up at the other man. “It’s an empty pizza box.” His smile did not diminish in the slightest with his words.

“I’m not giving a cop free pizza.” Barton said flatly, before pointing a finger at Luis’ chest. “Just keep the lid closed and distract them.”

“No worries, man. I’m good at distractions.” Darcy slid her eyes over to Barton who shrugged his shoulders. The look in his eye said don’t blame me, kid, you brought him. Luis slipped out of the van, closing the door firmly. Darcy and Barton watched as he marched purposefully across the lot towards the assembled police force, baseball cap jammed firmly onto his head and pizza box held high. 

“So what’re you gonna do?” Darcy asked, turning back to Barton and having to shuffle herself back quickly as his legs came over the backseat at her. He grunted as he landed in the front seat, and fumbled at his hearing aids. 

“I’m gonna provide another distraction.” He said, before slipping them off his ears and pocketing them, sealing the Velcro firmly across his chest and patting it carefully. 

“So what do you want me to do?” Darcy signed, hesitantly, trying to remember the shapes and movements he’d taught her. 

Barton dropped his head to one side and laughed. “Well,” he signed back. “I sure as shit don’t want you to take my aunt to the pool.” Darcy, concentrating hard on his fingers as they moved in front of her, translated quickly and then hit him hard in the arm in response. 

“It’s not easy, dude.” She signed back, slowly but correctly this time. 

“Stick to computers, kid. Speaking of which-“

“Shut down the grid?” 

“You got it. Remind me why you’re not an Avenger?”

“Because I don’t do well with authority figures?” She offered nonchalantly, before pulling her laptop from her bag and flipping the lid. The screen flickered into life and Darcy’s fingers dropped to the keys, dancing across them and pulling up the blueprints for the local electricity board in seconds. Barton tapped her on the shoulder and she glanced up to see him sign quickly at her. 

“Darce. You’ve met us, right? That’s practically the dictionary definition.” He winked, leaned forward and pressed a sloppy wet kiss to her forehead. She grimaced, laughing and shoved him off her, turning her attention back to the black and green screen in front of her. Barton slid out of the van and set off towards the veterinary surgery. 

She checked his six, then hit the keyboard. Just four keystrokes required to shut down that part of town. Darcy sat back in the seat and counted quickly. It didn’t take long to hack them and break their system, but it also wouldn’t take that long for them to get it back up and running once they noticed. New York had, disappointingly, become fairly adept at disaster recovery plans. In fairness, they’d had some practice. 

*** *** *** *** *** *** 

Steve had braced himself behind the main counter, wishing not for the first time that afternoon that he had his shield with him. As it was, he had jeans, a t-shirt that some might argue was slightly too small for him and a headache the size of Brooklyn. Bucky on the other hand was stood on top of the counter, feet braced and rifle sighted. The veterinarian who had taken Lucky in for his booster shots had long since barricaded the door to the examination room. 

“Buck-“ He tried, again, without much hope. The dark-haired man tensed above him but did not answer. The strip lighting above them flickered, then cut out, plunging them into semi-darkness behind the half-closed blinds. Steve let out a curse into the room. 

“Hey Cap.” 

Starting, Steve looked around himself, confused, trying to focus quickly in the half-light. 

“Up, dude.”

Steve rolled his head back and met Clint’s eyes grinning down at him from the ceiling vent. His hands went unwittingly to his hips and his head tilted to one side. “How did you even-“

“Don’t ask.” The archer answered firmly, kicking out the metal grid covering which clattered to the floor slightly to the left of Steve who side-stepped neatly. “We have approximately ten minutes until the grid gets back online and I plan for us to be halfway back down the freeway by that point.” He dropped to the floor and rolled, popping up onto his feet and sending an arrow into the alarm system control panel. 

“Honestly, I think it’s a little late for that.” Steve said drily. 

“Force of habit.” Barton answered, shrugging unapologetically and looking up at Bucky who was still defending the countertop. “I have a guy on the outside.” He jerked his head towards to the window and Steve leaned to look around the partially closed blinds, focusing his eyes on a short Mexican pizza delivery guy who appeared to be having a serious argument with the chief of police. 

“Who the-“

“Again, don’t ask.” Barton threw over his shoulder, snapping the bow back down into travel-sized truncheon and shoving it into a holster at his hip. “Where’s Lucky?” 

“Exam room three.” Steve bit out, and hauled himself up onto the countertop alongside his friend. He laid a hand on Bucky’s shoulder gently, sending up a silent prayer that he wasn’t about to take a bullet to the gut. “C’mon Buck. Barton’s here now. We’re gonna grab Lucky and get the hell out of dodge, okay?”

There was a pause, a beat where Steve thought seriously that it would all end right then and there, no matter what else happened. Then Bucky dropped the gun and turned back to him, blue eyes boring into his own. Steve fought the urge to sigh in relief. 

“Okay.”

Barton appeared, Lucky trotting behind him as though nothing untoward had occurred, paws pattering happily against the tiled floor and tail wagging slowly from side to side. The archer paused, and nodded to Bucky who had slung his rifle over his shoulder. 

“And we’re leaving how?” Steve asked, some trepidation lacing his tone. Barton silently pointed to the ceiling. Steve’s eyes slid to the dog, planted firmly in front of him and looking up at him adoringly. He hung his head 

*** *** *** *** *** *** 

The van’s side door rolled back violently at the same time the back doors were hauled open. Darcy started slightly, closing the laptop as Steve rolled into the back of the van, shortly following by Bucky and Barton pushing the dog up and through the open side door. The pair then slid in themselves. Barton slamming the door home. Lucky jumped up at the back of the seat and graced Darcy with a slobbery kiss, chin to hairline as the driver’s door opened and Luis slid into the front seat. 

“All good?” Barton asked, his head appearing next to Lucky’s and directing his question at Luis. 

“Totally good man. I scored twenty bucks.” He grinned and held up a fistful of dollars. 

“How the-“ Darcy stuttered, looking him up and down. “You had an empty box?” Luis shrugged and stuffed the bills in his glove box. “Ugh, just drive.” He slammed the car into reverse and the van shot backwards. The dog slid back into Bucky’s legs, kneeling on the floor, and the dark-haired man caught him in a wide-armed hug. 

Darcy twisted in the passenger seat and looked over into the back of the van at Steve, who was spread-eagled on the floor, taking up most of it and seemingly uncaring as the loose head rest Darcy had lost earlier bounced back and into his shin. His tired blue eyes met hers with a distinct look of resignation in them. She smiled back at him. 

“Told you I’d sort it, didn’t I?”


End file.
